What if
by Bookwormjz
Summary: What if the roles were switched? What if instead of Kurt attending McKinley, it's Blaine? What if Kurt's the lead singer of the Warblers, in the role and place of Blaine?
1. Chapter 1

I pressed an icepack against my shoulder. It stung like there wouldn't be a tomorrow. I have to admit I am on the verge of just quitting school sometimes, because, well, school is where you supposedly go to receive your education, where you're encouraged to dream on, make goals, accomplish them, and just live. My question is how in the world am I able to come close to any of those things, when every corner I manage to turn, I am coarsely attacked by a bunch of unsophisticated Neanderthals. Though There's always glee club. The only part of my day I tend to look forward to, my friends Tina and Mercedes, as well as Mr. Shuester and the auditorium. That's promptly the only reason I'm not breaking down in front of everyone, every second of my life.

"Alright everyone! I have just received our competitors for this year's regionals competition!"  
Mr. Shue pumps his fist into the air, as he unfolds the piece, reading with a clear and ostentatiously confident voice. " We are up against the hipsters! A continuing education program for the elderly."

"How are we supposed to compete against a bunch of adorable old people?" Mercedes exclaims.

"Ha, brittle bones! Give 'em a pat on the back and they'll crumble!" Puck states so very thoughtfully as I sigh, thinking about how incredibly shallow that comment was.

"And also, the Warblers, the acapella choir from the Dalton academy of boys" he was interrupted

"Hold up. Like a million gay jokes just popped into my head" Santana side glances at me, getting absolutely no expression from me. I tend to use my neutral face a lot.

"Since we're going to have some tough competition this year, it's yet another boy vs girls competition!"

I tread over to where the guys were involved in some serious muscle comparison. Plopped onto a chair and let my thoughts fly.

* * *

"Hey fag, you done rehearsing for the gay musical? Or is your little ball gown still being made!"  
My face slams into the bulletin board. Snickers fill the hallway as I feel a sharp pain up my cheek.  
My hand rushes to my cheek, just to notice that a pin has slightly grazed the skin.  
And I pick myself up. Picked up my bag and books and continued down the hallway, avoiding glances, just as I have been for the past ten years of my life.

* * *

Carole is cooking roast chicken with green peas. The smell wafts into the living room and slowly down the narrow hallway. I let it in. The house, my house in which I am finally safe, isolated from all those comments and remarks and rebukes. Life definitely needed to grant me a break sometimes.

"Finn honey, can you please set up the table?"  
Carole says chopping some bright orange carrots and dropping them into the boiling water of the family sized soup.  
Finn basically drags himself there, with the spoons and plates, mumbling to Carole about something Rachel has done that he doesn't know how to deal with. Again.  
Then she spots me in my white button down. Sprinting across the room in her bright pink flower apron, she squeezes the air out of me, I am again deprived of air. I have learned to love Carole as someone like a guardian, not a mom, because I'm not yet ready to begin that faze, but she's the sweetest person in the world, and, sadly the only one who cares to talk to me about my problems.  
"Blaine! Sweetheart, how was school today?" She asks, a cheeky smile on her face.  
"The typical. It was good, with sectionals coming up and all." I grin.  
She looks awfully relieved.  
"Burt! Blaine's home!"  
My dad makes his way down the stairs. He looks the same as always. Baseball cap. T-shirt. Buff expression.  
He pats me on the back, I started to wince a bit, because voila! Just on the bruise, but I refrained from doing so, because more worry shouldn't be put on the family. You know, with me being gay and all.  
"Mom, Rachel's birthday is coming up and if I mess up on her present she's going to kill me."  
Finn looked exasperated. He really loves that girl. I thought about the last time I was in love. And then I remembered that it had never happened. What would it feel like? To just admire someone so much it hurts to be apart? To even start to imagine a future with this specific person, to get married or to start a family. It all seems so far away for someone like me.  
"Hey kid, you look sad. What's up?" My dad studied me, head to toe,".  
Of course I wanted to say that I am feeling so very despondent, shrouded in hopelessness, insecure. But I put on that confident exterior I have learned to wear so well, and a slight smile over my face. And said "I'm fine."

He looked somehow perplexed for a moment there, wondering if I was telling the truth.

I gave him a cheeky grin and walked on by, upstairs into my room.

I was propped up against my wall, resting on a pillow.  
'Dalton Academy' was typed into the browser, as a very royal looking website popped up onto my screen.  
"A non-bullying safe environment where sophisticated and successful young men are educated." I read out loud to myself.

* * *

"Hey. Why are you so grumpy today?" Mercedes patted me reassuringly on the back.

All I manage to do is smile back. I couldn't find anything to say.

"You are down."

I continue without words. My tongue seems tied at the moment.

"Talk."

"It's nothing really. Just that there are some guys at this school are giving me a hard time. That's all. It's really nothing." I get a tray from the table and walk over to the cafeteria.

"Who? Karofsky? And his backup dudes?" She wrinkles her eyebrows in plain disgust.

"Yeah. He's been pushing me around a bit. Slamming and tripping. Stuff like that." I really didn't want to explain more.

She doesn't answer for a while, I plop some strangely deformed bits of what seems like ...potatoes? Or was it cauliflower...

"Is it because I attract so much attention or-"

"Wait, are we still going out for karaoke this Saturday night? With Santana and Tina?" She interrupted.

"Uh, yes. We are."

"Great. See ya!"

I stand there as Mercedes pushes through the crowd to meet the glee clubbers at our usual table. And I just stand there. Waiting for something? Undetermined. Confused? Well of course. Got the final impression that nobody cares? Why of course.

* * *

"I was thinking we could do some Usher. Maybe something badass that will chill the spines of the ladies." Puck trails.

I was positioned at the far back, away from the discussion. It wasn't that I didn't care, really. Just that I am not usually needed in their conversations, I've been completely okay with swaying in the back.

"No dude. I want to do Maroon five."

"Maroon five sucks."

I didn't really notice I was slowly zoning out until Puckerman discursively called my name a couple times.

"Huh?" I hadn't heard a word he had just said.

"Dude. I said why don't you make yourself useful and Go put some rat poison in the old people's jello or go visit the Garglers-"

"The Warblers you mean." Why I chose to correct him remains a mystery.

"Whatever dude."

I was stared at for a couple of seconds. The truth was, as much as I hated skipping school, something was urging me to go, so, should I?

"Fine." I was clearly not wanted here.

The room filled of puzzled faces. Add mine on the list too. Hey. They were the ones that told me to go. Boys and their hard to understand personalities

* * *

The drive over to Westerville went quite horribly. Of course I took some time to study the maps I found, but with the large amount of twists and turns, I managed to get lost by quarter way. And also, doubt was in hand, with every kilometer, I had this unnerving feeling to turn back.

But then I arrived

Dalton Academy had a very large and grand building. Circular domes. Draperies in royal blue and ruby red decorate the rooms, top to bottom. Filled with Exquisite polished furniture, mahogany probably.  
I walked in. It was precisely between classes. The rooms and passages were stuffed with students, rushing about, minding their own business it seems. They were dressed in the same colors as of the school logo and banners. In blazers very detailedly tailored- "Darn." I muttered to myself. How the heck did I manage to forget the thing about uniforms and private schools?  
This is going to be a hard place to 'blend' in. Then I suddenly noticed I had been standing there, at the same spot for over two minutes. And I had absolutely no idea where I'm supposed to go. Ah.

I decided, after a while to, go for the staircase, the circular one, where I observed that the majority of students were heading. I tried to seem like I was rushing too, to fit in, but it didn't really help because I accidentally smashed into another boy, and that sent me wobbling a bit. I regained my balance.  
"I'm so sorry. I'm a natural klutz."  
I looked up. And, well I hope I wasn't blushing because this boy, the one I single handedly decided to fall on was truly gorgeous. Or handsome. Or delicate, whatever one may use to describe.  
"I-Uhh.." I was flustering.

"Nah, people jams are due to meet an accident here and then." He said, broadcasting a small grin on his face.  
Of course. Me and my slow responding mind continued to rest in that puddle of goo state, therefore keeping me from giving a proper response.

"Are you okay? You seem sort of speechless, and confused." He smoothed out his bright red scarf and continued to study me.  
What weirdness that he didn't leave yet.

"Um. Hi. I'm new here." Finally.

He raises his eyebrows, a curl on his lips. Hmm  
wonder if he believes me or not.

"Kurt." He holds out his hands towards me.

"My name's Blaine." I smile genuinely at him. "So. What's going on exactly? Where is everybody going?"

"Dalton has a glee club, an acapella choir called the Warblers- The one I'm lead soloist in, we put on impromptu performances from time to time. It tends to get everyone dazed for a bit. That's why the commotion is so large."

"Wait, so the people here enjoy glee? They don't make fun of it or anything?" I am actually very taken aback.

"Of course. You know with my voice, and the music covered, we're almost like the school's stars."

I look at him, he looks back. For some reason though. He, Kurt looks hesitant in a way, almost as if something was bothering him. But then he regains control over his expressions and says.

"Just follow me, I think you should experience our 'talent' if you're going to enroll here."

He grips my hand, swinging it side to side. And that was the last thing I could notice because his skin felt like velvet. My brain muddled as I stumbled behind him awkwardly. We took a few turns. And stayed in a corridor filled with highly decorated couches and tables, in which seemed as a resting place for the students.  
He pushed open a door and revealed a medium sized room packed with people, every cubic meter, and whereas there was a group of boys, looking at Kurt, as if waiting for instructions.  
"Whoa... I don't think I really belong here." I breathed, and it wasn't a lie. Everybody here looked so, filled with self-esteem, confident. Powerful. And here I stand, trying to be as small as possible, and also having the cutest boy I have ever met watching me do so.

"Well, I would suggest next time, for you to put on a scarf, or a tie, or a bowtie, something around your neck, because it looks too plain." He points out as I shuffle at my place.  
"Lighten the gel. Your curls earn the right to live." He looks amused.  
I put my hands up protectively over my hair.  
"Oh and also, don't forget your jacket 'new kid'." He fixes a rumpled part of my collar and just smiles smugly.  
I'm doomed. He found out. Was I that obvious? Yes, I probably was.

"Now if you excuse me," He positions himself to the center of the bunch as the backup vocals stream.

_"You think I'm pretty. Without any make up on. You think I'm funny, when I tell the pun slang wrong. I know you get me so I let my walls come down. Dooown!"_

My knees feel weak. His light and sweetly soft high resolution made a swarm of butterflies erupt in my stomach. I stare at him blankly as he prances around the room, everybody cheering him on.

_"Before you met me, I was alright but things were kinda heavy, you brought me to life, now every February, you'll be my Valentine. Valentine!"_

He narrows his blue-green eyes at me. Them twinkling like stars on a clear summer night. A playful smile creeps up on his face. I manage one back, as I continue to stare in awe of this so well organized, completely unbeatable glee club. But I couldn't seem to care. This boy was too beautiful, in every way possible.

_"You make me feel like I'm livin' a, teenage dream. The way you turn me on, I can't sleep let's run away and don't ever look back, don't ever look back! My heart stops. When you look at me. Just one touch. Now baby I believe! This is real! So take a chance and don't ever look back, don't ever looks back!"_

I scoff, because this was so incredibly and unbelievably good, I had no other expression to give.

The song passes through, as I manage to stop myself from shaking, head to toe. And Kurt dancing around, in this cute flimsy way, arms at his side.

"Let you put your hands on my, in my skin tight jeans, be your teenage dream tonight."

The last resting notes have not yet terminated before my applauding starts.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N Here's the author's note :D I finally learned how to work this website, and this message also covers the first chapter, since then, I didn't know how to add this yet. Au tout cas, I am Joyce. Nice to meet you all, and the reason for this fanfiction is so that I can share my love for Klaine with each and every one of you. Thank you, to all who's reading this, because it means that I've sparked interests in you, and that is the single thing that will make me the happiest. Here's chapter two, and Enjoy (PS this is all written in Blaine's perspective, if you guys haven't caught on.)

* * *

The smell of the rich and creamy coffee fills my nostrils. I gulp down my breath. It was a fairly stupid idea to come here, a not very well thought out one indeed, as I didn't seem to consider through my mind, the consequences of my being here, once I got caught. When the song had finished. I sort of just stayed there like an inanimate object, an ice sculpture let's say, until Kurt walked up to me and shook me back to reality. He called up on two people, one was decidedly Asian while the other was so tall, I had to look up to meet his eyes.

The hall he previously took me through. Was lined with coalesce mini rooms, what they were used for remains a mystery.  
So. Now I was sitting at a French buffet style table, coffee in hand. With three completely neutral faced Warblers. Couldn't really determine thoroughly whether they wanted to slap me martial arts style in the face or serenade me with a Katy Perry song again.

"Does the coffee meet your expectations?"Kurt asked me. Expression still so very blank.

"It's great..." I look down at my shoes. " Am I allowed to ask why I'm being treated to the-" I look at the cup. "_Dalton beaners_when it was kind of clear I came here to spy."

They looked back at one another. Is it me or did Kurt stifle a giggle. I froze, for some unknown reason.

"Was my allowance to ask anything ceased or-or-"

" Hush Blaine. You're not in trouble."

"But I came here to spy-"

"I couldn't care less about that." He clears his throat. "This is Wes and David, my fellow companion Warblers." He gestured at the two sitting next to him. They nodded in response.

I blinked back at them, still mildly taken aback about the fact that spying however wasn't exactly 'cared about'.

"This is a non-bullying, violence-free school. We're not going to do to you what you might of predicted." Said the one I assumed to be Wes. An assumption I repeat.

"So." My vocabulary needs to be improved.  
Kurt has a worried expression painted, he looks at me with a look of sympathy.

"You were such a terrible spy, I had a feeling your heart wasn't on the job." Kurt whispers, leaning towards me.

"So, if I am allowed to ask questions..." I stammer. This statement might push a few off the edge. "Are all of you gay?"

The silence drags, like a lowly morning sun. Then they burst out laughing. Just like that. Unable to explain why.  
I must've resembled pretty perplexed because Kurt's suddenly voice softened.  
"We get asked that a lot, if you're wondering. It's sort of a well known guess."

I suppress a tiny and astute grin. My eyes still lowered.

"But. No, not everyone. Well, of course I am. It appears to be as obvious as can be to others. But Wes and David both are in a relationship. With girls." He opens his mouth to talk again, but decides at the last moment to repel his comment.

And then I feel a burn in my eyes. All those feelings of despair and anger and just plain annoyance begin to stir. My eyes and palms are burning. I didn't notice that I was weeping heavily until Kurt mumbled something to his friends, them raising from their chairs.  
"Nice meeting you Blaine." David waves me goodbye and disappears around the corner with his friends.  
Must regards me, and I slightly notice that his eyes have started watering too. Those multicoloured eyes should not be disoriented by tears.  
"Hey. Don't cry for me. I'm not worth it." I declare.

"Blaine, you know. I get what you're going through, don't think twice that the same things haven't happened to me." He pulls out a photo from his blazer jacket.  
"I was taunted at my old school, a lot. I had, and still have a high pitched girly voice."

"You have a beautiful and melodious voice, Kurt." I sit up properly.

"Blaine. Look at me." He hands me the photo. "I wear designer clothes wherever I'd go. Hair coiffed with hairspray. The bullies target me, like a bullseye. But there's one thing you shouldn't do, because you're such a talented person, I gather, is let him torture you. Stand up for yourself."

I nod vigorously. It doesn't seem like exactly what's best for me, since he's about twice my height and weight and speed. And amount of followers and friends. Well. You get the idea.

"Here. Why don't I give you my number, you can call, text, whatever me anytime when you need help. This is a great chance for me to try being a good role model for once." he reaches out.

I slide my cell phone out of my pocket and onto the table. "Thank you, Kurt. Glad to know there's more people like me." I wave goodbye and he extends his hand for a handshake. I just swoop in and sweep him in a large hug, of absolutely no forethought. He stiffens at first but then embraces it and hugs back.  
"Don't forget what I said about you getting some scarves. Consider it." He winks.

It was about half an hour before my arms stop tingling.

* * *

"Girls. You ready?" Mr Shue calls from his seat at the far back end.

"Brittany! Your jacket is on backwards!" Rachel shrieks.  
"But it's like a rainbow, if you flip it, it still looks like a rainbow. This jacket looks like a rainbow."

The wisps of smoke poured in, as 'delightfully' dressed instrument players leveled out.  
Hard rock electric guitar came on at full blast. It strummed my eardrums as an artillery gun would usually do so. I look around me, everyone seemed to be cheering. What's the harm if I do so too? I yelled some whoops and clapped my hands loudly. I guessed the music wasn't the thing that'll shock me the most.

_"Start me up! Start me up! Oooh Tommy used to work on the docks! Union's been on strike he's down on his luck! It's tough, oh so tough.."_

Their costumes were... What's the word, Kurt would probably know. And. It seems my mind is focused on Kurt again, the boy with the caramel hair, and the mesmerizing voice that the angels would bow down to- back to the oddly looking badboy - or was it badgirl suit. With metal prickles, bandanas, leather jackets, and quite the heels. The close feeling of animosity started to lump my throat. Maybe it was because whenever I see the stereotype boy, it's always with the sleek, sloppy, messy jackets and shirts. And I'm here in loafers and bowties. Quite the provoker huh? It did seem to conciliate Mr. Shue. He appears to be dancing along vigorously to the music. Conventional.

_"We've got to hold on ready or not! You live for the fight when it's all that you've got!"_

Rachel, as much as she seems to enjoy irritating me, one must admit that she has quite the dexterity in her vocal chords. She can mimic, belt out anything by anyone, so very theatrically that it would seem like she was starring in her own broadway extravaganza.

_"Start me up, we're half way there! Whoa-oh!_  
_Livin' on a prayer!_  
_Start me up, we'll make it, I swear! We're livin'!_  
_Livin' on a prayer if you start me up!"_

My cell phone vibrates in my pocket, sending shivers through my leg. I pull it out of limber motions, not wanting to disturb their 'show'. And what lays there, in my text inbox shocks the hell out of me. In a good way of that word usage. If possible. "_Courage. -Kurt_" A very Wide smile cracks my lips. And the butterflies have returned.

It must've been minutes. Seconds, of how long I managed to find interest in those seven letters. More interest than I've ever gotten from anything, really. It's just the meaning that lies beneath those contiguous letters. Kurt still remembers me, well, he should, because it's been like twenty-four hours, and a figure usually tends to trigger the long term memory upon a visit, but it's the fact that he really does care for me. I hear the last lyrics being played directly I to my ears.

_"We're half way there,_  
_Livin' on a prayer!_  
_Take my hand and we'll make it, I swear!_  
_We livin' on a prayer, livin' on a prayer!_

_You got to start me up!"_

I don't even realize the song is over.

It just ended with me, in that same chair, same physical spot. Still glaring dreamily into the screen. I really couldn't care less about my eyes and how Carole has scolded me many times about distance and leverage.

"Blaine."

My phone screen has put me in a trance.

"Blaine. The bell rang five minutes ago. You're going to be late to your physics test."

I splutter and tumble off my chair. Literately. Tumbling is not a good way to break off a trance, you see.

"Blaine. Class. Two minutes?" Mr. Shue helps me up and leads me towards the door.

"Don't bump into anything on your way there!" he sends after me.

My phone, it was by itself, I swear. Flew into my palm and displayed the message. I was walking fairly quickly. So in that moment when Dave slammed me into the locker, from one side to the other. My cell phone slid across the floor, out of my reach. He picked it up and kicked me in the stomach. I hiss in pain once again, because, like that very once, again, voila. Right on the last bruise he had created. I slid to the floor and waited for it to stop hurting, turns out it didn't afterwards.

Then I suddenly remembered Kurt's previously given advice. I stood up. There stands a fraction of a second where I am hesitant, a hunch, one would call it, that this is not going to end well. But I swallow the doubt and scream at the top of my lungs.

"What the hell is your problem Karofsky!"

He turns around, ever so slightly and mocks me, then, chuckling at his own gesture, he takes off into the boy's locker room.

I choose to do the stupid but bold thing there and then. I chase after him.

"Why don't you freaking answer my question before you decide to run off like a coward!" I bolt off, catching speed, because I am a fairly small guy, I am moderately fast at sprints.

I turn a corner and throw the door open. My fists ball up and I am on the midst of throwing a fit.

He's there, retrieving something from his locker. "Ew, are you planning to peek at my junk?" He mocks

"Yeah, every straight guy's most turbulent fear, that us gay guys are secretly out to get you!" I mock back.

"You got the wrong location lady boy." He turns to point at the opposite wall. "The girl's change room's that way."

"What is your problem."

"Besides you wanting to enter my personal space?"

"What have I ever done to you! I have successfully stayed out of your 'clan' life until you decided to butt into mine." I slam his locker shut, to close off distractions. "And you know what else? I can very easily see you in thirty years ahead of time, bald, chubby and fat and alone in a bar, still making fun of other's lives when you haven't got one."

"Shut up Anderson."

"You need to realize that hurting others will never help you in any ways possible. It just perfectly proves that you cannot accept us, us the special and unique, while you're as ordinary and boring and dull as can be."

"SHUT UP." He steadies his hands, fists at the ready.

"Your ignoramus and bluntness will result in you being a scared little boy who cannot accept how incredibly normal he is."

He slams his hands into the locker and looms over me.

"Are you going to hurt me? Are you going to hurt the ones that are better than you? If so, I'd suggest a war against the world because-"

He grabs my face with his callused hands and I brace myself for the blow. But it doesn't come. Instead he leans and **kisses**me.

I am too stunned to do anything. I can't feel, I can't move and I cannot react. I am literately paralyzed for a few seconds.

After I retain consciousness, or at least my abilities as an animate object, I harshly push him away. My hands at my front, he runs towards me again, for what reason I did not know. I scurry down the hallways, out of the school, out of the parking lot. I keep on running.  
Into my car, I throw myself in and seal the doors before me. Then I grab my knees and I start to cry.

I've been crying for how long, the time amount is uncertain.

All I know is that my shirt is completely soaked and that I cannot go back to school.

Karofsky was gay.

He has been all along.

And has been picking on me because he was confused.

Suddenly, a wave a thorough sympathy and regret fills my mind. I had called him things that I'd never, I would never amount to. I... Everything was just so confusing, my great talent of messing things up has again been activated.

I felt horrible. I am a horrible person.

But then I come across the things Karofsky has done to me, the locker slams, the shoves and pushes, the insults. My sympathy ceases. but it doesn't go away.

I put my hands on the steering wheel and drove off to the only place I could think of. Only insanity and stupidity mixed together would've resulted to this conclusion.

* * *

The great and grand brick building greets me, autumn leaves scattered across the pavement, making immense designs and patterns. Oak doors swing open as I wriggled my way through the panels.

The staircase with the glass ceiling opening wasn't really difficult to find. And, as it was a bright and sunny and brilliant autumn day, the sunlight streaked through the windows, their gold castings glittering and reflecting the circular designs of the building.

Where would he be though?

I check the time on my watch. It was approximately the same time in which I arrived yesterday, so they should still at choir practice if my assumptions are right.

Then I asked myself, why was I here to find Kurt?

Why not Carole, or my dad or the guidance counselor Ms. Pillsbury? She was plenty helpful when these problems decided to show up.

The thing is Kurt, is someone like me. He knows and gets what I'm currently going through. Or is it because his incredible fashion sense has intrigued me? Or his dazzling eyes? Was it his angelic voice that can charm the most obnoxious things?

My answer rests blank.

I follow my direction instincts - which sucks by the way but appears to be the only thing I can use at the moment, and travel down the path, that Kurt supposedly dragged me through.

The music rolls around the environment beside me, it was obviously Kurt and his soprano, counter-tenor voice, singing some antique classic that I've never heard before. I'm more of a top forty's guy.

I trail behind it, eyes open, careful to spot those glasz eyes.

_"Don't cry for me Argentina! The truth is that I never left you!"_

It's this door. The one with the nickel grazed handles. Why this detail seems important, is unknown.

I was almost about to just walk on in, but I realized how incredibly creepy and awkward it would be to see some stranger asking for some time from their lead singer.

I leaned onto the wall, mind still so very blank. My mind gears were not handling the news very well. To tell the truth, I still wanted to crouch down in a corner and cry. Come on. You have to agree with me. Your bully, the one that torments you and creates tremulous fear boil up every turn of a corner, every slam of a locker, suddenly comes up and kisses you. It's hard to take in, believe me.

"Okay guys. Take five, I need to get my music sheets for the next piece I'm introducing." Kurt's voice approaches the doors, as I straighten up and regain my posture.

He walks through and the moment he spots me, he jumps back in surprise, eyes wide.

"B-Blaine."

"That's me. Glad my name stuck."

"What are you doing here? I mean, it's the middle of a school day, it's a two hour drive and, again where's your scarf!"

I smile affectionally at him. Then my smile falters, eyes dropping to my shoes again. He notices my actions and puts a hand on my back.

"What is it Blaine."

"I- I have a lot of explaining to do."

* * *

"Wait what." He almost doubles over, in disgust or surprise, "He WHAT?"

"He leaned in and kissed me. Here." I said pointing at my lips.

He looks more confused than I am, judging my his expression, which was pretty amusing to watch actually.

"You sure he didn't, like punch you with his face, or smack you with his cheek or something."

I look back at him. And I catch him pondering. Lost in contemplation. That was the moment I realized something. Kurt was really beautiful. I'm not saying that because he has flawless porcelain skin that makes the surface of pearls shine with envy, or the fact that his hair is perfectly styled, which stays in it's perfect form, not a strand out of place. The way his long eyelashes catch the tiniest bit of light, and redirecting them into his blue, green, yellow, grey, crystal like eyes that make the diamonds seem less of glisten. Not only his exterior, but his personality, as less of it I've seen, as it is someone who is a witty, shrewd, astute, who loves and cherishes and cares deeply for many things, who is bold, brave, courageous and extroverted while being the most delicate thing in the world, easily fractured.

"Blaine, we need to give him a little chat, sometime, see of we could straighten him up a bit more- Blaine. Hello..."

I've been staring too long of a duration. I blink a few times and subtlety look to my side, and avoiding his gaze. "Yes sure, but I don't want to waste any of your time. I mean, you've got not part in this situation, Kurt, I don't really expect you to give into something, that was originally my problem."

He begins to talk. But I shut him off, "I keep doing this for some reason! I keep dragging others into my own selfish needs, I-"

"Blaine. Would it help if I said I wad volunteering my help?"

"I-"

* * *

I showed Kurt around the school yard, it's rooms and functioning styles, thank goodness it was lunchtime. We walked up the staircase, this time, not circular.

"So, where would he be at this time of day?" Kurt stopped, hands on the metal bars. I noticed how incredibly out of place he looked, so poised and proper and dapper, made me sort of proud to be so close to him.

"He is usually with his jacket crowds, they lurk around here and during lunchtime, the occasional crowd beat up."

As if on cue, Karofsky walks down the stairs, right behind where we were staying, Kurt daringly stands in front if him, blocking his way as he began to explain,

"Are you Ka-"

"Gayer, is this your little boyfriend or what?" He jeers off at Kurt, a sudden wave of protectiveness crashes over me.

"We're not here to argue. Dave," I avoid looking at him.

"I've known many people, like you who are, let's say confused. And that was the reason you did what you did." Kurt says in a soothing voice, moving closer than anyone has ever dared to.

"What the hell are you talking about princess. I didn't do anything." Karofsky starts to panic, but keeps his sturdy and balanced stature.

"Do I really need to say it out loud?" I say.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." He spats, pushing past Kurt and I and continuing off,

"You kissed me, Dave, and you expect to just get away with it like nothing happened?" I stared at him wig complete blankness, and he stopped in his tracks.

Then, in a stretch of a second he ran up and slammed Kurt against the metal fence, causing him to whimper. I lash out at him, cautious of him laying a finger on Kurt, on me, that was the usual, but on Kurt it was absolutely unacceptable. I tear him away and send him sprawled on the ground.

"You really need to keep your hands to yourself. Or someones bound to get hurt." I say sternly.

He runs away, leaving not a trail behind.

I turn my attention to Kurt, to see him smoothing out his red-blue blazer, which seemed wrinkled but fine.  
"Kurt, are you okay. Did he hurt you? Are you hurt?" My voice fills with concern.

He just chuckles at me. "You look cute when you're worried. But, nah, I'm okay. Thank you for getting him off me." Kurt says dazzlingly. My heart swells. He had just called me cute. I definitely needed to be more worried.

But somehow I suddenly feel despondent again. And I sit on the steps. He ice creeping onto the back of my neck.

Kurt sits next to me and cuddles on me, I tense over the gesture, but then melt into it. He feels warm and soft and caring.

"He stole my first kiss." I say out of the blue. Then I realize it was out loud. "Uhh, I- never mind" I correct myself. It was half true. I've kissed a girl before, when finding my dad and myself, so that didn't really count, to be exact.

"Hey, it's okay." He flutters his eyelashes at me. "Just imagine it as a good thing, because first is the worst, and second is the best."

I grin. He stands up and stretches. I find myself longing for his warmth.

"Come on, let me take you to lunch. My treat." Kurt decides.

"No, I can't, this already is not your problem to deal with. It's too much to ask."

"Do you really see me as the type of person to leave a person flooding in despair, to eat alone? Is that really my image?" He pouts adoringly.

I sigh, and follow him out of the schoolyard.

And I smile.


End file.
